Board 8 RAP BATTLE: tha LEAGUE 3 Playoffs
The Playoffs of the Board 8 RAP BATTLE: tha LEAGUE 3 Tournament. ''~Playoffs~ Wildcard Round Wildcard Round Battle 1: Digi vs. Mer ~The Score~ Digi: 5 Mer: 4 ~The Raps~ Digi Keepin’ you all guessing while the bomb squad investigates the topic They’ve got my microphone for testing because they know how hard I rock it I rap at high altitude and my lines are hot from friction, scary Don’t try and out-me-dude, I’m straight up here, my diction’s airy Like that game with the circle jerk and the biscuit, I’ll make you eat my nut bread Your raps rival that of Steve Urkel work, like Beavis I get nothing but-head. Mer you got ri-dick-ulous uptake upstate, how many dicks can your butt take Suckin’ so me-tick-ulous first-rate, feels great, but I ain’t gay, cut bait I got my heat out now, and I’m pump with you with lead ‘til ya tensile My raps are on beat now, this lead it brings new meaning to ‘ya dick is a pencil’ My lines are juice-y like I shot ‘em up with a creatine gasket Don’t need you-see, cause I get more head than a guillotine basket Mer Think you can flow but you spit post-menopause, Nothing sick here, Red Cross is a better cause, better bars, watch me give 'em out like rent-a-cars, while you get ****ed in front of everyone like Jenna does, I don't try, it comes natural like henna does, Shootin' off power like Electabuzz. Man I run this ****, the RAP BATTLE Tom Nook, I destroy any ***** givin' me the wrong look, You're undercooked, "Suck a dick, yo, you can't get married!" I make a Digi sandwich but don't call me Barry, Covered in blood while I feast like Carrie, See my picture next to "Beast" in your dictionary. Digi Was that rap supposed to be heavy, Mer? It was light like illumination All I heard was rappin’ mastur******, showin’ premature ejactulation You’re a paling assailant failing irrelevant suckin’ down inhalent Derailing the male scent, railing the pale gent when ya get bent It’s clear you pre-wrote, I thought this was freestyle, bruh With every key-stroke, I keep goin’ to revile yuh Stealing lines from other users, your originality is microscopic I’m dealing rhymes to other losers, I’m flexin’ venality in this topic Standing over you don’t mean you understand me, take a breather But me landing under you don’t mean you overhand me, either Your raps are spoofed, jacked-waste fool, can’t break your habit You dun goofed, I back-traced you and sent the tape to Bob Saget Mer Think I pre-write my ****? That's a testament to quality, Rhymin' sodomy, pity you'd every think you're hot as me, Follow me, I'll teach you like Bill Nye teach biology, You bottom-feed, I'll stomp your ass with no apologies, Your raps are too wordy, I'm bored before the next line, Keep it under 300 syllables next time, With lyrical agility, think my mouth is from Kenya You rap like you're freestyling over Enya, My lines are all mine, not a single one bit, I'm like a Mormon, I don't jack anyone's ****, Like Chris, I run it, there are many unfit, and you're Rihanna, I shut your ass up with one hit. Wildcard Round Battle 2: Realo vs. DC ~The Score~ realo: Forfeits, replaced by RTB DC: - Wildcard Round Battle 3: BBall vs. PatsD ~The Score~ BBall: Forfeits PatsD: Forfeits Wildcard Round Battle 4: Aeon vs. sbp ~The Score~ Aeon: Forfeits, replaced by AID sbp:- ~The Raps~ sbp when you'd fluked a win against me once the very art itself was disgraced like tearing out an actuary's tongue -- no accounting for taste my mistake must have been even leaving you alive when voting began i'll need to see to it you die bleeding and squealing like p-chan sucks to your ass-mar when i slit your piggy throat, silence your cries when i'm the rock to crush your dreams and crush your corpse, you'll realize my writing process is the full program against your shareware demos ceaselessly unfunny, you're comic sans like dan gilbert memos practically a factory for imperfections, you're just dross and like a needle stopped at customs you can't get your point across so bore us all you like with these two rounds you get before you're gone 'cause i'm putting you right to sleep once you're finished being a-yawn Quarterfinals Quarterfinal 1: (1.) Ed Bellis vs. (8.) RollTheBones ~The Score~ RTB: 3 Ed: 4 ~The Raps~ RTB Feel my frustration: My lines are all wasted on the Chemist’s altercation A non-existent confrontation that stole a verse of lyrical devastation. I’m going the distance, despite Bellis’ resistance and this matchup’s persistence, The king of subsistence, RTB is insistent on your complete non-existence. Make an art display of your flesh, flay you alive, my words are the best Take your heart from your chest put you in cardiac arrest – no jest, Leavin’ the league impressed, drop 12 lines before you hit refresh Like I’m possessed or divinely blessed when writing for this contest. A venomous priest whose a lyrical beast, I’ll be leaving you deceased and obsolete, I’ll hand you defeat: simply highlight your verse and hit delete The best lines you speak are defenseless and weak against my perfected technique I’m humanity’s peak, flawless rhymes and physique, while you’re an incestuous freak Ed Your rap career is timeless in the sense that it's un-watch-able You think that you done rhymed best but I'll ice you like a popsicle Like Pearl Harbor with the papers your flavor is sore-Bay Got a waiver once you waver worse than Hamlet at a buffet So sign right here, don't have chagrin; unlike the Dane I'm decisive I want to get under your skin just to know where all the lice live I'll derisively deride you, I'm a gatling, you're a pop gun Pull my heart out with your prattling? Here's some spoilers: I ain't got one The top gun, man at the top won, but like a backwards whore you came back But beating you is nonstop fun, watch you duck more than Aflac I've never met a man who flunked his own head's school of thought Your win's a myth I'll soon debunk: the score is two to naught. RTB That mc you hate to see dictate his lines irate with rhymes so great It seems like fate when I flow and create a hastened heart rate Your façade deflates as I berate and desecrate, there’s no escape I’ve got godly traits while you can’t procreate without using rape My rhymes are more sickening than syphilis, that **** you’re afflicted with I spit ridiculous, pit you with an uphill climb worse than Sisyphus, this is it You little *****, I’m too meticulous, I rap with a lustrous injustice And a bluntness that’s wondrous, leave you dismembered and bloodless With toughness so luscious: it’s a compass to a perfect literary roughness Facing me twice is luckless, I’ll cut short your smugness like Browning’s “Last Duchess” Mrs. Bellis should have spat or swallowed, not let you in her vaginal hollow Now we’re forced to sit and wallow while suffering the worthless life that's followed Ed While your verses are static, Ed does acrobatics and backflips My schematics emphatically leave you breathless like an asthmatic It's problematic, your impression of me as someone that can be disposed I'll give you an Icehawk lesson: your luster's soon to be exposed Like Gen'ral Custer with dysentery you'll take this last stand sitting down They'll have to rewrite the dictionary to make Total Shutout a proper noun I drive a lyrical Mercedes while you're stuck in Grandma's Chevy, sir Could empty the Euphrates and its flow would still be heavier You're talentless and barren like an infertile Kardashian chick You're just like the other Darren: a Sargent in the realm of Dick Go lick your wounds and shift into your best defensive stances Cause everyone can see you blew your first and second chances. Quarterfinal 2: (2.) Giggs vs. (7.) AID ~The Score~ AID: 1 Giggs: 6 ~The Raps~ AID First verse goes to me with Giggs lethargic in recovery He’s fine, had a lobotomy, for him that’s cosmetic surgery But he first needed a colostomy to correct his abnormality He had his head stuck up his ass (affects the brain’s accessibility) ‘least the switch fits with his nick – his Friends call him Crap Bag *****es wouldn’t touch his ****, so he became the world’s first hag *** Can’t blame them for avoiding that freakish physiology Giggs’s ***** is why we know the science of MICRO-biology And I’m why he’ll cry like Fry - if Fry saw “Jurassic Bark” ‘cause he’s got lockjaw from sucking ****, and I jaw like a shark My monstrous lines stop his heart - he’s Tony Stark without the Arc More powerless than Superman if his only name was Clark. Giggs Giggs on a higher plane to these lames, as if I'm travellin' through the stratosphere Spittin' pesticidal flames, killin' Ants and Slugs like I'm battlin' Atmosphere When I'm done I'll leave your body in a bigger cast than Lost had Murder one, style Wrath of God on AID like Giggs surpassin' Mossad Incite sheer terror in opponents like a cactuar would belonephobes With no errors, rhymes so potent 'cos I swagger like I own the globe Ain't no parity in this race, Giggs already reached the destination 'Cos AID's a charity case like the Haitian earthquake donations Lyrical finesse impaled ya with orations of straight devastation Tell me, Princess Consuela, did you not foresee this situation? Spittin' raps devoid of heart & soul like a Faust/Tin Man collaboration And you'll be fantasizin' 'bout my dick size after this verbal castration AID you’re in the stratosphere for rill, fallin’ like a leaf in autumn two things you share with Peggy Hill: you won’t slow till the bottom, and you’re a sub-level teacher of a language you don’t know in your case rap – you follow that? it’s hard for me to go slow ‘cause I warp space-time with lines spat at impossible velocities while you use mental grandiosity to write lyrical atrocities rhymes so full of inanity are clearly crimes against humanity I guess now you’re a Hague *** - you better plead insanity and forget the ****s for once, your brain’s had all the shrinkage if the apes were all retraded I’d think you’re the missing linkage based on your demonstration, the only flow you create is blood skip your second menstruation, this battle ends with MY period. Giggs Quarterfinal 4: (3.) Alec vs. (6.) sonicblastpunch ~The Score~ sbp: 8 Alec: 5 ~The Raps~ sbp the shame and fear on your face when you know i'm your opponent realizing you can't take on me, take me on, is your a-ha moment hunting high and low but you've no skills or power to prevent your career being mc hammer's royalties -- completely spent if talent were spanish cash you'd be straight bankrupt, zero dineros now your sean bean's slaughtered by my lyrical uruk-hai arrows boromir, hell, bore-us-all has always been your strategy shutting the crowds down cold like boris grishenko, just sad to see you claim invincibility but can't even put up a fight dreamed of being a smart-alec but never had that first part right ain't my fault there's no role for you, you played yourself, it's sad but true it's just my job like nik khrushchev that i've come here to bury you Alec I'm so bored by sir sonic, left damn near catatonic Better raps from Alanis, gee now aint that ironic Hear you once was Amazin', just like the '69 Mets Now you're both known for failures that we can never forget Gonna have to work faster, up against a diss master Looks like this s is BP cuz his flow's a disaster! Dropping rhymes that are pointless like they're breasts without nipples His delivery's special like olympics for cripples Less wanted than a gay guy, who is allergic to nuts Like some pre-Abraham Jews, it seems you don't make the cut I'll Highlight all your failures, like you're Goofus I'm Gallant We need an Amber Alert, cuz you're missing the talent! sbp how unfortunate for you to have invoked my annual ascension to a skillset far beyond your mortal comprehension you took three parts of my name in vain, incurred my vengeful trinity and thus you'll die a thousand deaths as proof of my divinity cry "oh my god" like joseph joestar when my wrath leaves you bereft and try to pray like paula polestar but you're dead with eight turns left you came to fight a madman and you found a god, should've known that i'll snatch your skull straight through your face and wear it like a cubone hat toss organs to the buzzards, leave your feeble bones in little piles and give your skin to goodwill as the greasiest of textiles you've no chance 'gainst my maxed-out stats, it's ninety-nine i'm leveling -- enjoy your grave, alec, 'cause that's the only place you're trevel-ling Alec sbp's tries are over, at last we all can rejoice Finding keepers in his raps is like a backwards Sophie's Choice punch can't compete with elites, with all those raps obsolete His rap thermometer's broke, he just can't rise with the heat Must be inclined to resign, against a mind most refined My raps like psychic hookers, cuz they'll be blowing your mind Now I'm spreading my pro seed, so just watch how my prose breeds I'm dropping lines that so dope, make box seats become nosebleeds Bringin' it Home like Sam Cooke, by rappin' gods you're forsook, Hear that ringing, Telephone, cuz AlecTrev's off the hook! Now with your bandwagon gone, and your fanbase diminished You ain't no Icehawk project, cuz sonic -- you're finished Quarterfinal 4: (4.) Digi vs. (5.) DC ~The Score~ Digi: Forfeits DC: Wins by forfeit ~The Raps~ Digi Digi is back, rappin’ all up in this topic and he’s unbelievable Got my lyric holster strappin, my victory is achievable I brought the bomb squad with me, practical in my mind I told ‘em my raps was droppin’ soon, tactical in every line DC you’re about to get run like a red light, so drop the mic You see, gon’ get shunned like a dead mite, on top I strike There aren’t enough adjectives to describe the beatdown you’ll receive But a box full of laxatives I’ll prescribe, put the seat down and heave I’m a veteran of rap, embedded in it’s history You’re threaded in with crap, bedded in mystery My lines leave you confused, like a homeless on house arrest No resistance, you ohmless, just give that mouth a rest. DC My multi-syllables are strongly visible, metaphors/similes discredit yours consistently. I've long belittled Digi and his abilities - but I guess less is more to him it seems. You'll be parting from Saints Row, drop the mic and grab a harp and a halo - whine if you must. I'll just laugh as you suffer, force feed your ashes to your mother... and another one bites the dust! It's not smart to go to war with this machine, I got nukes and more for the victory. And it's been settled I'm on a higher level - so please step up your delivery. You're not a sick MC or a thug with bars, you couldn't hustle parts of muscle cars. This is golf in the hood so easy tiger, or you'll find your balls in the woods for not bein' up to par! Noone begged you to show and battle me, but since you're here I'll throw some blows for those. Who admire my flow, runnin' through foes - more than a step ahead, I'm Usain Bolt. So you take notes of DC's quotes, I want a reason to blow and got tanks if beef is waitin'. Digi's in 'A League of Their Own' starring opposite of Tom Hanks - piece of cake, cinch! Digi DC Semifinals Semifinal 1: (1.) Ed Bellis vs. (6.) sbp '~The Score~' Ed: - 8 sbp: - 10 (AFTER TIE-BREAK) '~The Raps~' '''sbp' old bellis won't be so bellicose when i tear through his varicose veins, leave no way to dodge my lucha moves like el generico's like rorschach thirty-five minutes too late, you're powerless to stop this splatter in the snow when you bomb like the scott pilgrim box office you can't slow my cashflow roll, it's absolute terror i'm sellin' when i liquidate you like the end of end of evangelion i'm the big boss, naked snake, ain't takin' no virtuous mission i'll fire straight at your face like koby clemens when roger's pitchin' you just ain't com-pettitte-ive -- thought you were good, you misremembered i'll bring the earthbound mu training to render you dis-a-membered under pressure you're just bonkers' rabbit pal, you fall apart so when this slaughter's said and done your corpse won't fill a cuisinart Ed Like a suicidal botanist you've sown the seeds of your demise To stop your rhymes monotonous I'd bestow to you a Nobel Prize In fields of science (because who knew the missing link could read and type) And also physics (your work's a brand new symbol for 'coefficient of tripe') Like a broken pipe you're disconnected if you think your rhymes are dope Cokes should have had a sign erected: “SBP, abandon hope” You ain't big, boss, you're a pretender, just Learning to Crawl (but special you're not) For lyrical crimes you're a repeat offender like fat chicks wearing polka dots Here's a Gordian Knot, an unsolvable maze: who let you pretend to have skill If you never rapped for the rest of your days it would be an act of goodwill Your future's been foretold, it's true, the end of your lifespan Because 'sonicblastpunch' anagrams into 'Tossup? Clinch – ban.' sbp very kind of you to throw the match without even throwing a fist your science so misguided as to turn the crowd creationist can't hide behind that labcoat, it's translucent, my illumination highlights the outlines of your outdated grade eight education can't work bunsen burners to turn up the heat, no flame to fear talent expressed in warmth makes you the clear absolute zero here with me standing above, your problems thus impossible to solve like dennis hopper's koopa you're nothing but slime, you've been devolved you're just the fungus no one trusts, among us you're the saddest joke so like lust the homunculus you'll die as dust amidst the smoke should have proofread your own name but you'd been too overzealous and your missing n filled in completes the match result, end bellis Ed You put the 'BP' in your nom de guerre because you're crude and unrefined Like cheaters who play solitaire you should have mentally resigned You must be blind, let me remind you: think you've won? Correction: They'll redefine 'kicked in behind' with a picture of your rectum I done wrecked him, didn't expect him to really make this matter Let's eject him and dissect him like a car-crash-caught cadaver The fact is you're just second-rate, the Genie down to my Jafar If you were a prosecutor? Great – you're banned from rap due to 'dis bar' The audience is filled with fright, they're sending you some censures Your bark is much worse than your bite, like a pair of Doggy Dentures And should I somehow die tonight let this be my valedictory: I'll see you in the finals' spotlight, looking back in victory. TIEBREAKER ROUND sbp i'm the brainbuster, drop you turnbuckle to floor like r. mika overwhelming your psyche like the dream parade in paprika you dream of breaking out huge but that's straight delusion grandiose you're grover 'gainst my godzilla, this monster fight ain't even close you only scare the buffet tables, nothing monstrous but your waist size just a bloated white-ass kracko straight out of dedede's skies you're just the brawl to my melee -- that's fact, son, that's just common sense you come out second, disappoint, and trip over your own offense your rap beef is the stalest, no moo-vement, fan interest flat like jerky our thanksgiving friends up north will watch me carve you like eh-turkey crowd begging for my axe like they're dutch schaefer, get to the chopper -- thwack! your tongue's been cleaved in half, the proper conversation stopper Ed My capacity for lyrical voracity makes you look like a travesty Come back after some practicing, and I'll still sew you up like a tapestry With my savagery I make people fall so hard they redefine gravity Tried to brush me off? Bad strategy – can't drill past this cavity! Just call me 'Your Majesty,' Godzilla – I'll be King Ghidorah, see To defy me is blasphemy, blast you with bolts of breath-based energy And you can be the Melee, stat; you're just old-fashioned fascination Like a Fox without a Home-Run Bat this is your Final Destination Time for lyrical amputation as I swipe your fingers from your brain (Though honestly with how you usually type it'll probably look the same) My oration's your negation, any less from me would be improper The thought of you winning this altercation – now that's a conversation stopper. Semifinal 2: (2.) Giggs vs. (5.) DC ~The Score~ Giggs: - 6 DC:- 0 ~The Raps~ DC He received a fixed crown to the 2nd seed but I'm still in doubt he's a test for me. So with techs and big rugers, I'll put an end to Giggs future - without the vasectomy. It's true that D is hot with scripts - G drops putrid lines, some rotten ****. And I'll have his ass lookin' forward to the end - like a suicidal optimist! I've got the itch to bury and my name alone makes your mission scary. If it's a challenge you send, I'll never back down - like boys in missionary. What's up your sleeves? You'll need some precocious magic, like midget fairies. Oh, Giggsalot! You're the kid I thought put the word '*****' in 'obituary'! Giggles is just brainless with his plan to be famous. His weak flow, fairy piss rhymes can't touch my greatness. I did not plan out this great diss, it just comes instantaneous. Only time his punches are the **** is when his hands in his anus! Giggs Seems there's no power left in D.C., your sheer ineptitude's surprising Just like Red when he sees Eevees, seems it's time for an uprising Nothing said in twelve near-paragraphs, have you considered downsizing? No dread, no brains, no hardened graft; but here's something far more enticing Your style's a fraud like Jebediah, see, while mine's perfectly cromulent So prominent; I'm the G to your D, but it's Chemist that's sub-dominant And y'all can't kill me like your punchlines are all gravity-based Your scrawl's unskilled and this is crunch time: how'd them cavities taste? Giggs grunt rhymes depravity-laced, this visionary never stops And yo, this battle's only like missionary because Giggs is on top You best know that I'm perverse, done tapped your momma like a police wire And after just one verse, old chap, you're beggin' for a ceasefire. DC'''You're weak with your flows, my speeches are gold. And I'm beatin' this foe 'til his brain leaks through his nose. And seeps to his toes while I sharpen a blade. Scar his heart with a spade and then put a spark to his grave. Darkness invades with every pardon I've made. With sicker beats than if I sprayed my garden with AIDs. You're ******** in ways and claim you're fresh. Well, I'm named as the best - insane, slaying with text. Maimin' your flesh, smearin' your brain on your chest. Usin' fangs to inject severe pain to your rec. Puttin' this lame kid to rest like a cripple to bed. His parents are midget cousins which makes him a little inbred. '''Giggs Giggs pissin' on opposition, treat D.C. like a urinal cake Have you callin' up physicians to complain about vaginal ache If this match was on serve it looks like I just earned the vital break Nothin' left to conserve, *****, there's a place in the final at stake! I've seen more vigorous spraying from ******es armed with vibrators But I'm delayin' this slayin', Chemist, best prepare to die later See what I'm sayin' is venomous, Giggs garnering praises so generous Divine lines filled with blessedness, preachers callin' this the genesis But in this battle you're detritus, with voice quivering so tremulous Right hook jabs you like tetanus; leave your future lookin' tenebrous D.C.'s condition's perilous, faint hopes dangling on the precipice And man, you used to be the king but Giggs just turned you emeritus Finals Finals: sbp vs. Giggs ~The Score~ sbp: 7 Giggs: 5 ~The Raps~ sbp surely even senses slow as yours must note imbalances at play when you can't hit broad sides of barns and i drop bullseyes miles away talent breeds accuracy, that's why you only prattle errata forever underwhelming, third-stringer like radim vrbata your intifada's child's play -- you're throwing rocks, i'm dropping bombs my shrapnel slicing through your silence 'fore your brain can sound ala'ms napalm'll scorch your corpse, your skin all shrunken like sultanas body twisted like cronenberg flicks, face busted like rihanna's but don't unfold no umbrella, there's no whether here, just certainty i'll gun you down onstage like the chechen theater insurgency i'm putin on this clinic so you'll learn something, don't act upset just be proud you got second despite never posing any threat Giggs A rappin' clinic, sonic? What you're putin' on really is just stalin', Whole verse lenin' on obscure references, your tsar is clearly fallin Gettin' so many negative responses you'd think your verse was anionic While I bring in the rap renaissance with flows infernal and demonic Would turn this whole league tragicomic if they declared SBP winner 'Cos I've ripped apart wrappers ten times hotter than you on TV dinners And if there's on-stage gunfightin' you'll be the Dimebag Darrell figure Whole life flashin' backwards before your eyes; bullet, barrel, trigger Doomed to eternal second place just like a rappin' Flintheart Glomgold It's obvious your skill's left ya, it's clear to see your art's gone cold Craftin' new worlds like I'm Kefka, prepare for your tectonic doom And think up a new nom de plume, AT, cos Giggs' gon' make sonic BOOM sbp no surprise you'd id'lize kefka, closest counterpart you'd know here: shallow clown whose disappointing contest strength tops out at low-tier lettuce note how hard the crowd hate-hate-hate-hates you, they've got me set on hurling imp halberds through your forehead applied direct like head-on dead on arrival, you're a goner, no train-ing'll break your fall ain't no life 3 revival when you started with no life at all you morbidly obese shut-in, your malnourished brain pitching fits gobbling down microwave dinners like hungry lumas gulp starbits thieving from ducktales reruns to fake intellectual insight your food-stuffed maw just dribbling out all your blathering blatherskite you stunted, corpulent man-child, can't even fake maturity your name's crayoned upon your lifetime contract with obscurity Giggs Giggs beat the final boss with gumption, time to escape the crumbling dungeon 'Cos like your raps it seems this architechture just don't ****in' function Excuse my French, but man you ain't got the Gaul to use ****in' Asterix I'm crouched in my trench, responsible for all your sunken battleships With each word you spit relying on your non-existent rappin' Pedigree I'll stick your head between my thighs an' have you wishin' you could pleasure me But my motive ain't sexual, just enforcin' the rightful hierarchy 'Cos in all matters lexical I soar, while your flights expire sharply Aiyyo, S - B - P ; you're gettin' gunned up and clapped quick 'Cos your whole ****in' persona damn near borders on slapstick Meanwhile Giggs on this rap shtick spits so raw that he need chapstick And done delivered some Ether **** 'cos S.B.P.'s lost all his magic See Also * Week 1 * Week 2 * Week 3 * Week 4 * Week 5 * Back to the Standings and Results page Category:Board 8 RAP BATTLE